


A Confession in Stitches

by MageArc



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Sky Pirates, Stitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4036174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageArc/pseuds/MageArc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred has been badly injured and needs his stitches cleaned, and it just so happens the person he helped has come to return the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Confession in Stitches

Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, that was true, but it was worth it. He definitely wouldn’t take it back... although getting injured wasn’t exactly a note on Alfred’s to-do list for that afternoon, but how could he really prevent those pirates from attacking their ship?? Obviously he couldn’t have been able to tell they were coming. They flew right under his radar.

Alfred, who was laid in his cot, felt that for a moment, his train of thought derailed. A small laugh escaped his lips because of the word “flew.” Maybe it was just a stupid, although unintentional, pun on his occupation as a so-called “sky-pirate” as people had started naming them. Alfred liked it, but it lacked a sort of ring to it, a panache. Of course, the captain of the ship, Arthur, always disregarded him when he mentioned his irritation with the nickname.

Speaking of the captain, he’d been acting quite odd lately, ever since Alfred did what he did. Perhaps it was somewhat heroic but Alfred didn’t really want to advertise it too much, partly because people became irritated with his constant exclamations of wanting to help people, that and the fact that Alfred didn’t believe it was really that much of a heroic thing to do. Simply the right decision that any just person would make when faced with the opportunity.

Though, this decision of his was sure to leave a nasty scar, but thinking about it, Jones thought it’d be a neat story to tell people later on in life. That was definitely a plus. Right now, though, Alfred’s torso was stripped bare, arm in a sling and chest wrapped tightly with gauze. It was all somewhat hazy, how he got there, so Alfred couldn’t really remember who his ‘nurse’ was, considering he’d been out for a while. Whoever they were were lousy at medical care, or perhaps only had time to do the bare minimum.

Without even so much as a warning, the door opened on the opposite end of Alfred’s room, letting in a blast of cold air from the hallway. He wanted to complain but promptly shut his mouth when he saw the captain striding over, gauze in hand, along with a basin filled with soapy water. Of course Alfred was more curious as to why his superior was here in the first place, not driving the ship, but here. Well, he supposed Mathias would be piloting for the time being. Though, the captain was shuffling the items in his hands anxiously whilst looking at Alfred with a nervous gaze. Curious.

Letting his eyes slide over the smaller man, Alfred noticed how well-dressed he always was. Arthur was clad in his usual attire, a normal waistcoat and monochromatic wardrobe. Sure, it could get boring on anyone else, but with Kirkland... it was different. He looked absolutely stunning whenever Alfred laid eyes on him and right now was no exception either.

It seemed like Alfred realized he was staring and was bashful enough to tear his eyes away, head lolling back onto the hard pillow beneath him. The heat in his cheeks obviously wasn’t going to cease anytime soon. “Hello,” Arthur greeted quietly, moving forward to sit in the chair beside Alfred’s small cot.

“Hi.”

A slight cough. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh,” Alfred started, glancing down at his torso and then laughing softly, “I’ve done better, I guess, but I’m pretty okay.”

“Are you sure?” Arthur asked, setting down the items on the bedside table.

Alfred hummed his confirmation and watched Arthur with observant eyes. The man’s face was red and puffy, his hands always moving up to brush back his hair for no apparent reason, and he sometimes scratched at his arm absentmindedly, but in a slightly fervent manner. “Something wrong?”

Kirkland looked up, green eyes focusing in on his first-mate’s. More a co-pilot than anything, actually. He seemed to be struggling with an answer, thin lips parting only to close shut again, gaping like a fish. “I just feel so terrible,” he said finally, burying his face in his hands.

Alfred outstretched his uninjured arm and rubbed a circle into Arthur’s shoulder with a smile. “Don’t worry about me, alright?” Alfred let his hand drag down the other man’s arm and continued. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”

“No it’s not,” Arthur said, “You risked your life trying to protect me… Alfred, you literally let yourself be sliced and cut open.” Arthur was pulling at his soft, unruly locks with a sort of frustration. “Why’d you do that for me?”

“It’s not hard,” Alfred whispered, “I just did what was right.”

A snort sounded from Arthur, the man looking up with tears brimming in his eyes. “Honestly, no man would do that, and even you know it. What you did was practically suicidal.”

Alfred smiled and sighed. “I care about you a whole lot, captain, it’s not like I’d let you die.”

The man’s face contorted into a variety of emotions, finally settling upon guilt once more. “You seem happy about the decision…” He mumbled with faint resignation.

Jones pulled his hand away from his superior and set it by his side, letting out a wistful sigh. “Yeah, I don’t have any regrets. You would be dead if I hadn’t taken the blows.”

Arthur bit his lip and nodded, grabbing a pair of scissors on the table and reaching forward towards Alfred’s chest. The latter immediately jerked away suddenly, only to feel the pain afterwards and letting out a hiss. Arthur looked up, slightly alarmed at the reaction. “I’m just going to change your bandages, alright?” He said in the smallest voice Alfred had ever heard, causing the American to nod. This was much different from his usually confident disposition.

Cool metal found its way under the wrappings, barely brushing against Alfred’s chest. It was admirable how careful Arthur was being. Slowly, ever so slowly, Arthur began to cut, sometimes glancing up at Alfred who was staring at him before focusing back in on what he was doing. A few more snips and the bandages were off, albeit a bit sticky and hard to pull off.

Arthur pushed the American up into a sitting position gently so he could take off the rest of the wrappings. When Arthur saw the man’s chest, he had to cover his mouth.

It was disturbing, in all reality. The wound was a lot deeper and larger than anyone had expected it to be, blood crusting and bandages off to the side stained a deep red. Scarring was inevitable. “Now,” Arthur began, grabbing a rag and dipping it into some soapy water, “I’ll try my best to clean around your stitches. The blood dried, unfortunately…” Alfred let out a ragged sigh, but nodded his head nonetheless, feeling somewhat nervous at the thought of the captain actually cleaning his sutures for him. Arthur took this as his cue to wring out the rag and start cleaning, trying his best to disinfect. “I also apologize for the terrible medical supplies,” Arthur murmured, looking up at Alfred through his eyelashes. “We’re quite low on equipment and will have to dock soon.”

“It’s okay,” Alfred replied, feeling the soreness in his chest greaten. Honestly, this was hell. The pain was terrible and he could literally feel his heartbeat thrumming where it usually wouldn’t. Breathing was a laborious task that he could barely keep up with, almost making him lightheaded. “Captain?” He asked suddenly, his breaths turning slightly shallow.

Arthur paused his ministrations and focused his attention on Alfred. “Yes? Is something wrong?”

“I’m just feeling pretty dizzy is all.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, eyes widening, moving some bandages off the cot, “Please lay down, I apologize.” Alfred waved dismissively with his good arm and smiled.

Oh no.

A sort of heat prickled on the Englishman’s cheeks, making him feel somewhat self-conscious and embarrassed, so obviously he averted his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his regular cool composure. Kirkland cleared his throat and resumed his cleaning, trying not to look at his co-pilot. Why had he volunteered to do this? Was it to actually show gratitude or did he just want to see the man shirtless? Fuck if he knew.

“So,” Alfred said, interrupting his thoughts, “Who did the stitches?”

“Well,” Arthur said very quietly, “I did, actually.”

Now this was a surprise. “I didn’t know you knew how to do this stuff!”

“You sort of learn how to do the basics when your mother is a highly praised doctor,” Arthur smiled, “You’d like her, I think.” He glanced at Alfred, their eyes meeting before he said, “Similar personalities and all.”

“Oh? How’d you become so grumpy then?” He immediately regretted his choice of words, hoping not to offend his superior.

“Now that,” Arthur murmured, swabbing at one of the stitches, “Would be my father.”

Alfred smiled. “How did two opposites get together like that?”

There was a pause, a small grin gracing Kirkland’s features. He bit his lip and leaned forward a bit so that he was looking Alfred in the eye. “You know what they say,” he practically whispered. “Opposites attract.”

“Yeah…”

They were silent for a few moments, watching each other closely. The seconds felt like centuries and Alfred was loving every moment of it. All he wanted to do was tell Arthur right then and there how he felt but… he couldn’t find the courage and cursed himself internally for it. He could take a bullet or, quite literally, a sword to the fucking chest, but he couldn’t tell his captain his feelings. Honestly, what kind of hero was he?

“I’m sorry,” Alfred blurted out, face a bright red.

“Why are you sorry?” Arthur asked, starting to clean the last stitch out of many.

“That you have to do all of this for me,” he confessed. “You didn’t have to.”

Kirkland shook his head, setting the cloth aside in favor of a dry one, starting to pat at Alfred’s chest gently and drying up the excess dampness. “It’s fine. You saved my life, and you feel bad for it?” Arthur scoffed, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Damn it. Arthur was just making this worse. Maybe if he just summed up his nerves and finally unleashed that weight in his heart… After all, he’d almost died recently, so what was he waiting for? Another near-death experience? Good luck trying to survive another threat like that.

So, with every fiber of his being aching at the thought of such an action, Alfred opened his mouth as if to say something, causing Arthur to look over at him as he reached for the new spool of gauze. Those green eyes were so deep and filled with an emotion he couldn’t place, that they ultimately pinned down any sort of thought inside of Alfred’s skull. He was so positively entrancing but Alfred knew he had to say something.

But before he could, Arthur urged him to sit up, helping him to do so. Slim, delicate fingers were brushing against his spine and Alfred felt a sort of shiver go down his body. Of course sitting up was painful, but with the way Arthur was muttering things like “it’s okay,” and “I’ve got you,” it made Alfred feel a whole lot better. A little simple understanding could do a lot.

The air was so cold against Alfred’s bare chest, although it was remedied when Arthur started to gently wind gauze around his torso slowly, fingertips grazing his skin every so often. They were so close that Alfred could feel the soft breaths coming from the other man, his focus intense. “Captain?” Alfred murmured.

“Hmm?” Kirkland replied, concentration unbroken.

“Can I tell you something?”

There was a slight pause as Arthur finished wrapping Alfred, securing the bandages with surgical tape. The Brit looked up, as if he was studying Alfred. “Of course.”

“Well, first off, I wanna say thanks for all of this… It means a lot.”

“Oh, pish posh. It wasn’t a problem.”

Alfred blushed. “Okay...”

Kirkland shifted a bit. “You were going to say something else, yes?”

“Oh,” Jones said, “Yeah, actually…”

“And that is..?”

“Okay so hypothetically speaking… what would you do if your crew member had feelings for you?

Arthur hummed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Hypothetically, you say?” he murmured, pushing Alfred back gently so he would lay down.

This response only made Alfred’s face redder, and his heart was thudding so loud he could feel it in his ears. “Y-yeah, hypothetical.”

“Hm, well… I suppose it’d depend on the person,” Arthur said, moving a bit closer. “Who is this mystery man?”

Fucking Christ. Alfred knew that Arthur had caught on but he still felt so silly. “Okay so maybe I have feelings for you.”

At this confession, Arthur bit his lip and his eyes darted towards the door before coming back to Alfred. “Likewise,” he whispered, leaning forward and placing a kiss on Alfred’s cheek. “Don’t tell anyone though, I’d like to hear the rumors the others come up with once we start getting closer,” Arthur said quietly.

Alfred was gaping and his cheeks were on fire. Was this actually happening? “Closer?”

“Mhmm,” Arthur hummed. His voice was full of lust when he said, “I have no doubts that we’ll be getting a lot closer,” he traced a finger down Alfred’s arm, “After you heal, of course. If you’re alright with that?”

“Yeah… of course.”

Arthur made a move to leave, opening the door a titch. “Oh, and Alfred?”

“Yes, captain?”

“Just call me Arthur when we’re alone,” Kirkland smiled sincerely,  “There’s no need to call me ‘captain’.” A smirk. “I’ll be back later to clean those stitches again,” he said with a wink.

And just like that, the door was shut and Alfred was left to his own thoughts.

_What the fuck just happened._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write about sky pirates...


End file.
